


Undead Drunk

by babyrubysoho



Category: L'Arc~en~Ciel, Nightmare (Band)
Genre: Adorkable Vampires, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blood Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Hyde has a lame sense of humour, Laconic Hyde, M/M, Short & Sweet, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Groupie Hitsugi, Werewolf Sakito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6857647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyrubysoho/pseuds/babyrubysoho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyde takes Hitsugi drinking, because it's nice to hang out with your fans every so often. Too bad the bar doesn't serve the only drink that can get Hyde going. Luckily, Hitsugi is happy to oblige.</p><p>Yes, it's the old 'VAMPS are really vampires' premise. No plot, just slightly bloody fluff; because Hitsugi is the biggest Hyde fanboy since Yasu, and Hyde likes to cuddle him all over social media :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undead Drunk

It's two in the morning, and Hyde's friends are drunk. This is not unusual. They're at one of his favourite bars in Roppongi, in a curtained-off VIP booth, surrounded by a forest of empty glasses. This high-grade classiness (or at least expense) is second nature to Hyde now, after so many years at the top of the musical food chain, and to Hisashi, who is making a fool of himself by trying out his worst chat-up lines on the waitresses. Their kouhai, on the other hand, is still new enough to the celeb atmosphere to be adorably tongue-tied, even after about nine whiskeys.

It's been a long time since Hyde last hung out with Hitsugi, and he'd forgotten how nice it feels to be hero-worshipped at close range, especially by the young guitarist, who hasn't got any less cute as he's gotten skinny. Hyde invited him out at the last minute, partly on a whim and partly because Halloween season is coming up and it's time to get his Junky Orchestra whipped into shape. Hitsugi was extravagantly pleased to be asked, as usual, and has spent the last three hours sitting between his two senpai and listening to them bicker with as much shy amazement as if he was at a royal garden party.

Hyde likes this attitude, feels he's earned it, especially given that his own contemporaries and bandmates are a bunch of lanky piss-taking bastards who give him no respect whatever. So when Hisashi discovers there's a hen party going on in the general bar area and rushes out to gatecrash it, Hyde really has no objections. He turns his full focus on Hitsugi, who is blushing happily with the attention and alcohol.

Hyde has no problem with drunkenness, and certainly not in Hitsugi, who just gets more and more cuddly-looking the more drinks are pressed upon him. But Hyde never gets drunk himself. Because Hyde is a vampire.

Still, it doesn't put a crimp in his style at parties, and he's a better actor at _this_ than his film performances might suggest. So Hitsugi doesn't sense anything unusual when his miniature senpai throws a companionable arm across his shoulders and leans in tipsily to start telling bad jokes in his ear. He just does the usual, which is to get even shyer and more pliable, biting his lip occasionally to stop himself making embarrassing fanboy-ish remarks.

Another lame punchline, which makes Hyde snigger (being undead does not necessarily equal a sophisticated sense of humour) and Hitsugi screw up his fine visual-kei eyebrows in an effort to get the joke. The older man chortles and leans in closer. Time for his fun. He butts his forehead against Hitsugi's neck in a passable pretence of drunkenness, then moves to nuzzle his elegant nose into the soft skin. Hitsugi has gone very still, but Hyde senses it's more from general surprise than alarm, and a moment later the younger man is laughing quietly at the sensation of Hyde's dark hair.

“Tickles,” protests Hitsugi mildly, but is hardly about to start giving his musical idol orders, and doesn't seem offended at being ignored.

Hyde parts his lips against the warmth and lets his fangs slide out, just far enough to feel the pale skin start to yield but not enough to be noticed; he doesn't feed on people he knows, or anyone he hasn't mesmerised first. He's not stupid, after all. He just wants to tease himself, ready for later, when he can glamour some random idiot in an alley and have his dinner. To his amazement, Hitsugi, who had been giggling in a vaguely inebriated way at the close proximity of his hero, is suddenly alert beneath his arm, tilting his head aside to bare more of his throat.

This is a first for Hyde: people never notice. People certainly never _ask_. But then Hitsugi asks.

“...You can bite me if you like,” the younger man murmurs, now sounding petrified, though whether it's with fear or excitement Hyde really can't tell. Either way, he retracts his teeth sharpish and lets go, sliding fluidly round to face his tipsy kouhai.

“What _are_ you talking about?” he says, in that deep, laconic voice that so easily comes off as dismissive.

“I know what you are, Hyde-san,” replies Hitsugi after a long, fidgety pause, pupils dilated behind his oversized geek glasses. He's blushing, which is his general reaction to having Hyde's attention on him in any case, but this time it's fiercer, the blood close to the surface beneath his skin. Hyde feels a pang of pure hunger at the sight, but he's too old to let his impulses get the better of him.

“You know Vamps is just a name, right?” he says, as if Hitsugi is the dumbest blonde to walk the earth. And maybe he is, or else is really taking this hero-worship too literally.

“It isn't.” The cuddly guitarist is being surprisingly stubborn, given his usual passivity in the face of Hyde's pronouncements. “It's a really smart front. I _know_ what you are,” he continues, slurring gently from the whiskey but otherwise articulate. “But 's okay, I don't mind.”

“Oh no?” This kid really is amusing, thinks Hyde, leaning his temple in his hand and propping his elbow up on the sofa-back to listen to Hitsugi ramble more comfortably. Hitsugi nods solemnly.

“My best friend is a werewolf. So it's cool.”

“Bugger off.” Exactly how drunk is the man? wonders Hyde, because the alternative is just too unlikely. He decides to play along. “Your best friend.” He tries to remember the younger man's intimate acquaintances, and laughs. “You mean that supermodel guitarist of yours?!”

“Saki, yeah.” Hitsugi nods.

“Come on.” That gets him a shrug. Hyde narrows his eyes, because Hitsugi is radiating nothing but sincerity; he picks up the guitarist's discarded jacket and takes a good sniff, inhaling the scents of the man's life, and the hairs suddenly prick up on his neck. “Bloody hell!”

“Saki's beautiful when he's a wolf, too,” Hitsugi informs him happily.

“Take him for walkies, do you?” Hyde says snidely, to cover up his general astonishment, and his confusion at the possibility that Hitsugi may really _know what he is_ and yet has somehow failed to run screaming for the hills.

“Sometimes.”

“...And you know what I am. And you don't care if I bite you.” Hyde looks right at him, trying to get used to the feeling of staring into someone's eyes without putting the whammy on them. Hitsugi shakes his vivid head and leans in, and suddenly it's an overwhelming temptation. For Hyde, with his combination of extraordinary voice and huge dark eyes, the mesmeric aspect of vampirism is as easy as pretending to breathe: his victims never notice during, and they never remember after. What would it be like to snack on someone with their informed consent? Hyde never bothers himself much with guilt, but the prospect of this is beguiling.

He sets his hand to Hitsugi's jaw, feels the quick shiver beneath his fingers; even without the vampire hypnosis the guitarist is starry-eyed, and it gratifies Hyde's vanity to know that it's not down to any magical hoo-ha but because of _him_. Before either of them can think better of it he shifts to lean up against him, feeling the warmth pulse through Hitsugi's body. Then he's _hungry_ and his fangs are out; he touches the tip of his tongue to Hitsugi's skin and drives them into his neck, getting a gasp and a stifled moan because without the mesmerism of course it _hurts_. He tightens his grip on his kouhai's chin to hold him in place, then removes his teeth from the fragile flesh and begins to drink.

“Hyde-san...” whispers Hitsugi dazedly, and it's good, it's _intoxicating_ ; Hyde swallows down the younger man's willingness along with his blood, and it tastes sweet. Hitsugi's hand comes up to cradle the back of his head, fingers sinking into Hyde's long hair and pushing him encouragingly against his throat. This, too, is a novel sensation for Hyde; the kid is a marvel, little sounds of pain and pleasure reverberating in the older man's ear as Hitsugi rubs his feline cheek against him like an oversized cat.

After a minute or so Hyde breaks off, it being impolite to get greedy; besides, he likes to stay in control, and Hitsugi's sheer enthusiasm is enough to throw him off his game, never mind the _taste_ of him. Before he can sit back, however, Hitsugi reaches for him blind and presses their mouths together hungrily, stupidly, as drunk from Hyde's bite as he is from the single-malt. Hyde blinks in surprise: again, the people he feeds on, glamoured as they invariably are, rarely have a mind to do anything of their own accord, let alone something so daring and dumb.

“What're you thinking of, Hitsu-kun?” he purrs. The kid finds time to give him a glaze-eyed look, and then Hyde is kissing him, thick lashes sliding closed and tongue nudging his lips apart. Hyde tips Hitsugi's head back, leans over him, having clambered half into his lap and made himself right at home. It's an easy fit: even at a petite five foot four, the guitarist is still several inches taller than Hyde, who has always got off on the feeling of controlling people bigger than himself.

Although he's scaled back on the piercings in recent years, Hitsugi's mouth is full of metal, his lip spike giving Hyde prickles of pleasant discomfort while the ball of steel on his tongue creates a hard, smooth sweep that makes tingles run up the little vampire's spine. Suddenly he's hungry again; without warning he sinks his teeth into Hitsugi's pink tongue, a short, sharp bite that draws a musical whimper out of the younger man and fills his mouth with blood.

“ _Mmn_...” Hitsugi tries to say something, but is hampered by Hyde's lips on his, so he just slides his arms around his idol's narrow waist and holds on. This might be the most pleasure Hyde has ever felt with all his clothes on: it's the first time he's tried kissing and drinking at the same time, and it's magnificent. He feels drunk himself now, heat beneath him and inside him and all around him as Hitsugi continues to kiss him rapturously, dorky glasses bumping against his nose and generally getting in the way but not nearly enough to spoil the experience.

Eventually, and with some difficulty, Hyde decides that Hitsugi has had enough for his own good, at least for the time being; so he gives the tip of his own tongue a quick nip, gliding it over the punctures he's made in the kid's sensitive flesh to heal it. Hitsugi moans softly into his mouth at the taste of this new blood, which is rather flattering, and that response alone is almost enough to get Hyde hard. He keeps kissing the younger man, winding down the urgency and savouring the lingering tastes of smoke and whiskey and blood in slow caresses of his clever tongue.

“Hyde-san...” manages Hitsugi, when Hyde lets him pause to take a rare breath, “...will you...will you come home with me?” His face has gone as red as his hair at the nerve of the request, though his eyes behind their thick lenses are broadcasting nothing but pleasure.

Oh, man. Hyde raises his eyebrows and trails his fingers thoughtfully over Hitsugi's unique bones, to hide how appealing he finds the idea: dinner and sex and the warm glow of fan-worship all in one? He doesn't usually play around, because food is food and fucking is fucking, and he's married, after all; but the thought of going to bed with this fearless, tattooed kitten of a man _and_ getting to snack on him all night long is dangerously tempting. Hyde licks his lips, gets that sweet after-taste, and has almost made up his mind, no matter the risk to Hitsugi.

Luckily, at that moment they're saved from themselves.

“How fucking hammered are you two?!” yells Hisashi merrily, crashing back into their alcove with a bottle of Moet in one hand and, inexplicably, a balloon on a string in the other. “Quit messing with our lil kouhai, Hacchan, get out of his lap!” Hyde obeys grumpily, missing the warmth immediately, though he supposes he ought to be grateful to the drunken moron, because he had been about to make a _very_ unwise decision. “Sorry 'bout that, Hitsu-kun,” continues Hisashi, waving the balloon at Hitsugi, who has reverted back into his starstruck shell at the other man's entrance, though his eyes are still dopey with sensation. “He's a dirty little bugger when he's had too many.”

“Cheek!” drawls Hyde, glad that he can't blush like Hitsugi is doing. Hisashi maturely gives him the finger; Hyde replies in kind, and the idiot vanishes again.

During this grown-up exchange, he sees, Hitsugi has made a visible effort to pull himself together, though he looks like it would take only the slightest encouragement for him to drag Hyde on top of him again and lose himself in the magic of the older man's sinuous little body.

“I won't tell anyone,” Hitsugi assures him, clamping both hands shyly between his knees in a familiar gesture, although this time it's probably to hide the fact that he still has a hard-on. “About you, I mean.” Hyde flaps a hand at this.

“Whatever. Everyone would think you were mental.” He pauses. “But your werewolf knows. At least, if you've ever hung out with me and then spent any time around him.” Hitsugi nods. “Then he's already smelled me,” Hyde says, and makes a mental note to check out this implausibly beautiful creature in the near future. It always pays to keep tabs on the other supernaturals in one's territory. Besides, Hyde has never tasted a wolf, and he's curious.

“Sorry,” says Hitsugi contritely. He really is infeasibly cute.

“No bother. He can keep a secret, I guess. And the rest of your band, they know about him?”

“Oh, yes.” Hitsugi pushes his glasses up his nose. “But I'm the one he heels to.” Hyde gives a snort of amusement at that; it's easy to feel superior to werewolves, who always need a master, because something that's half man and half wolf is at least part dog. “And your bandmates?” asks the guitarist, hesitantly, as if worried he's stepping out of line.

“Course,” says Hyde easily, smirking at the memory of his various friends' reactions to his announcement. “It'd be rude not to tell them, right? If you're planning to work together all those years.”

“That's what Saki says.”

“All right then.” Hyde treats him to one of his slow grins, this time with a hint of fang, just to see the kid swallow. Then he gets up, helps the wobbly Hitsugi to his feet with some sage advice about steak and iron supplements, and pats him briskly on the shoulder like a good senpai. “Now I'd better rescue Hisashi from himself and take him home. You gonna be okay?” Hitsugi nods mutely. Hyde looks up at him smugly. “Good boy. Play well for me at the Halloween live, and we'll see about giving you a reward.”

And with that parting shot he sashays off to ruin Hisashi's good time; unwise to encourage the kid, perhaps, but it was worth it to see the look on his face. Hyde smiles to himself. What a bright future it is.


End file.
